


Let's Be Reckless Teenagers in Love

by WrittenSins



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, sometimes it takes sledding down a muddy hill to put things in perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 11:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3118829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrittenSins/pseuds/WrittenSins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was like the shopping cart all over again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Be Reckless Teenagers in Love

**Author's Note:**

> My first official pynch fic (I say official because I've got several other pynch fics waiting to be finished as I type this). This fic was inspired by both the shopping cart scene in _Blue Lily, Lily Blue_ , which is hands down one of my favorite pynch moments in the book, and a line from a Richard Siken poem, _“Every morning the same big and little words all spelling out desire.”_ Also, I listened to _Work Song_ by Hozier on repeat while writing this, which is my new favorite song to daydream about Ronan/Adam to.
> 
> Oh, and Ronan has found a way to awaken the animals and Aurora is now living at the Barns again.

Mist hung thick in the air, dampening Adam's clothes and lungs as he struggled to keep up with Ronan's sharp, lithe figure. His foot slid out from beneath him and he shot out a hand to steady himself. Mud and wet grass seeped between his fingers and he swore under his breath as he pushed himself back up. He had no idea why he was attempting to climb a steep hill after it had rained for the last week, only that Ronan had led and he had stupidly followed. As he watched Ronan's black leather clad back grow further and further away, Chainsaw perched atop his shoulder, he was struck again by the surreality that was Ronan Lynch. Even at the Barns, in a land made up of dream things, Ronan stood out. The king of ravens. The god of dreams. The boy with the wickedest smile.

“Any year now, Parrish.”

Ronan's voice carried back to him, pulling him out of his thoughts. Ronan had reached the top of the hill. He stood atop it, cutting an impressive silhouette in the gloom, boy and his raven. The king of ravens, indeed. Adam doubled his efforts. He hadn't missed the lift in Ronan's voice. It was something new, something Adam had just recently earned the novelty of hearing. It wasn't quite happiness; it was simply the absence of darkness. His Barn's voice. The voice only Adam ever got to hear.

By the time Adam reached the top of the hill, Ronan was gone. It took Adam a second to spot him. He was walking in and out between the trees that framed the top of the hill.

“Now what?” Adam called.

Ronan didn't respond. Adam watched him for a moment, then he began looking around. They had passed a few different hills on Ronan's impromptu tour of the Barns, but this hill was by far the tallest and steepest. Ronan had mentioned that he, Matthew, and Declan used to sled down it in the winter. Now, Adam tried to picture it, a little Ronan bundled up against the cold and having fun, getting along with Declan. He couldn't do it. Even with the glimpses he had caught recently of Ronan's past, when the three brothers were all at their childhood home, and Ronan and Declan were on their best behavior for Aurora and Matthew. Even with the new side of Ronan he got to see a little more of each time they visited the Barns. He still couldn't see a Ronan that wasn't haunted by the past in the same way he couldn't look in the mirror and see the kid he had been before the abuse.

Ronan crowed loudly. Chainsaw shot for the trees with an indignant squawk and Adam's first thought was: _Oh, no_.

Ronan walked back over to him, carrying a massive piece of black plastic. It wasn't until Ronan put it point down on the ground and flashed Adam a wicked grin over it, Adam realized what it was. A sled. A dream sled, if its pristine condition was any indication. One large enough for three small children. Or two teenagers. Adam already began to shake his head. Ronan's grin widened.

“No,” Adam said, still shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

Ronan ignored him. He picked the sled back up and carried it over to where the slope in the hill began. Adam already knew what his next words would be before he even said them. It was always the same. A finger pointed at something most definitely reckless and stupid, something Adam would without a doubt regret the next day, and the simple order of, “Get in.”

“You've got to be kidding me. I have work tomorrow, Lynch. Not all of us can afford to break our necks.”

Ronan just gave him a look, _the look_ , and Adam knew he had lost the war before it had even started. It was the same look Ronan had given him with the cart, the same look he had given him when he had somehow managed to talk him into getting in that tire. It was half-challenge, half-mischief, and all Ronan. Adam sighed. Ronan smirked.

“Didn't the tire teach you anything?” Adam muttered as he climbed into the sled. Ronan held it steady for him. Adam could practically _feel_ his smirk widen into a grin behind him. Adam could still vividly remember every bruise that had accompanied flying across a parking lot in a tire. They had been nothing compared to the nausea that had followed.

“Move up,” Ronan ordered.

Adam shuffled forward as far as he could go, knees tucked against his chest. He looked down the length of the hill. It seemed impossibly high now. What kind of parents let _children_ sled down a hill this steep and high? Ronan began counting.

“Three, two — ”'

Ronan pushed off and jumped onto the sled behind him. It tipped over the crest of the hill and then — it shot forward like a bottle rocket. Adam's stomach jumped in his throat and he slammed back against Ronan with a breathless swear. Ronan let out a terrible joyous howl. Wind whistled passed Adam's ears as they flew down the hill at impossible speed and then there was laughter, wild and reckless in his good ear. The world blurred around them and in that moment, it was just him and Ronan and the sled. No dark pasts. No emotional burdens. No Glendower. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered. At the bottom of the hill, the sled hit a rock and flipped. Before Adam could even summon a swear, he was flung into the air and sent skidding across the wet grass. Mud and grass flooded his senses, filling his nose and mouth. His heart slammed against his ribs, and then, it was over. He laid on his back, staring up at a gray sky.

Everywhere ached. He had scraped his jaw and he definitely wouldn't be able to lift his shoulder tomorrow.

He couldn't stop smiling.

He felt — there wasn't a word for what he felt. Alive. Exhilarated. Enlightened. _Utterly terrified_ . So many emotions, all coursing through him, all spelling out: _God, I love you_.

Adam closed his eyes. He could feel mud seeping into his hair and all he could smell, all he could taste with every heaving breath, was wet grass and adrenaline. How could he not have noticed it sooner? How long had it been there? How long had it sat there in his chest beside his heart, growing every day and waiting for him to open his eyes, to see what was right there in front of him? Hazy images of gloves and hand lotion and shitty ass mix-tapes swam behind his eyes, and he wanted to laugh. If he could summon the breath to, he would.

“Come on, Parrish.”

Adam opened his eyes and Ronan was there, standing over him with his hand held out, covered from head to toe in mud. His jacket hung open, revealing the old Irish band t-shirt he wore, and his dark jeans had tears in the knees, some new, some old (intentional or the result of Ronan's carelessness, it was always hard to tell). His ever present bitten leather bands hung muddy on his wrist. In that moment, Adam was struck by the reality that was Ronan Lynch. He was _real_ . Real in a way Gansey and the other boys at Aglionby would never be. Real in a way nobody who didn't know pain and darkness could be. When Adam looked at Gansey, he would always see his money — Gansey wore it like a fine suit, a second layer of skin. When Adam looked at Ronan, he never saw _money_ — he saw Ronan, dangerous, reckless, infuriating, choosing to sleep on the floor of Adam's shitty apartment instead of his thousand dollar mattress at Monmouth, _Ronan_. Impossible, yet possible Ronan.

_God, how did I not see it sooner?_

He reached out and took Ronan's hand. It was cold from the chilly autumn air and as every bit covered in mud as Adam's own. They stared at each other, close enough their sneakers almost touched. Ronan's eyes ran over his face and the air seemed to evaporate from Adam's lungs.

_How did I not see it sooner?_

The corner of Ronan's lips tugged up and he started laughing. Amusement bubbled up in Adam as he watched him, pulling at his lips, at his heart. He knew he must look like a mess. He could almost _feel_ his hair sticking up. And the whole right side of Ronan's face was caked in mud. Adam's lips broke into a grin and then he was laughing too, helpless to stop it. It took several minutes before Ronan calmed enough to ask, voice breathless with laughter, “Again?”

Adam's jaw stung and his ribs ached with every breath he drew in.

“Definitely.”

• • • 

It took four more trips, the last of which Adam barely managed to get back onto his feet afterward, before they called it quits and headed back to the house. Chainsaw flew circles in the air above them. She had openly scoffed at Ronan when he had held his arm out for her. Apparently, she preferred her kings clean.

“Dirt looks good on on you, Lynch,” Adam said as they neared the house. Chainsaw settled in a tree nearby and shot Ronan a reproachful look. “You should try it more often.”

Ronan grinned. “Oh, I am _plenty_ dirty, Parrish.”

Adam snorted and led the way inside. He stopped to wipe his feet on the mat as best as he could, suddenly very aware of just how filthy he was now that he was inside. Ronan walked carelessly passed him into the house. He disappeared into the kitchen and a small part of Adam hoped for a lecture from Aurora — _that_ would be fun to see — but after a moment, Ronan called out, “Mom's out shopping and she's picking up Matthew while she's out.”

“Good. That gives us time to clean up,” Adam called back, abandoning the mat.

Ronan appeared in the doorway.

“Got some clothes I can borrow?”

Ronan led him to a bedroom upstairs. Adam had never been in Ronan's old room — he didn't even know if Ronan had been in his old room since before — but he knew the second he stepped foot inside the room that it was Ronan's. It was filled with odd objects that could only be from dreams. There was an old record player in the corner and a shelf beside it overflowing with various records, most of which were the same type of loud Irish music Ronan was always blaring in his BMW. The room was missing the stench of stale beer and instead of framed speeding tickets, there were posters of Irish bands and far away places, but it was all Ronan. Adam wasn't sure what he had expected, but it still came as a shock. Gansey made it seem like the current Ronan was nothing like the past Ronan.

Adam's gaze snagged on a photo on the bedside table and he stilled. A younger Ronan smiled broadly back at him, the arm of a man that could only be Niall Lynch around his shoulders, and _oh_ , he got it now.

“These should fit your scrawny ass,” Ronan said, and Adam turned away from the photo before Ronan could catch him looking at it. Ronan held out some clothes and Adam took them without really looking at them. The photo burned behind his eyes.

“Thanks,” He said dryly.

Ronan showed him to one of the bathrooms, then left to use the one on the other end of the hall. That made a total of four bathrooms Adam knew of. _Someday_ , Adam thought grimly as he stripped off his muddy clothes and stepped into the shower. The water was too hot. Adam reveled in it. As the hot water cascaded over his sin, loosening his sore muscles, Adam finally allowed himself to think about it — it wouldn't do to start thinking about his feelings for Ronan when he was with Ronan. That was when slip ups happened. Like catching a person staring one too many times.

Adam took his time in the shower, lost in thoughts of Ronan and sleds. He could imagine it a little easier now, after seeing that picture — a younger Ronan without a care in the world. It made him ache inside. He wondered if that was how Gansey felt every time he looked at Ronan.

When Adam was cleaned and dressed, he headed downstairs. He followed the sound of clanging pots into the kitchen and paused in the doorway, bemused by the sight before him.

“What are you doing?”

Ronan glanced up from the large pot he was placing on the stove and his eyes lingered on Adam for a second too long. Adam was suddenly very aware of the old t-shirt he wore. He had no idea what the acid green letters spelled across his chest meant, but he was willing to bet everything he owned it was some kind of Irish band name. He was also very aware of the fact that it was Ronan's old shirt. Ronan looked away.

“Drag racing. What's the fuck it look like Parrish?”

“I didn't know you could cook.”

Ronan rolled his eyes, but not even he could play it off like cooking went even remotely with the bad boy persona he was so determined to project. Adam walked inside and examined the various ingredients already spread out on the counter.

“What are you making?” He asked.

Ronan turned away from him to grab something from the panty.

“Chili. Here, make yourself useful.”

Ronan threw something to him and Adam caught it reflexively. He looked down. It was an onion. He grabbed a knife from the knife block and just like that, he found himself making chili with Ronan Lynch. It quickly became clear Ronan knew exactly what he was doing and not only that, but he had a very set way to doing it. Although Adam had no experience cooking, he must've been doing alright enough because for once, Ronan didn't complain at all. He followed Ronan's instructions carefully; He couldn't explain it, but it felt like this was more than just making chili. Whatever it was, he didn't want to ruin it.

The finished chili was simmering away in a covered pot and they were cleaning up when Adam heard a car pull up.

“Your mom's here,” Adam said, leaning forward to look out the window. “And Matthew — oh, crap.”

A second car had pulled into the driveway and parked beside Aurora. Declan. He shouldn't have been surprised. For someone who lived over four hours away, Declan came to the Barns surprisingly often — very surprisingly, considering Adam (and, he suspected, Ronan) hadn't expected him to set foot in the Barns again at all. He felt Ronan move behind him to look over his shoulder and tensed.

“Of course he's here now,” was all Ronan said before he pulled away.

The front door opened. There was a moment of silence and then, footsteps pounded towards the kitchen. Matthew skidded into the doorway, wide-eyed and flushed from the cold. His eyes darted to the pot on the stove and widened further.

“You made dad's special chili!”

Adam looked at Ronan, but the teen was turned away from him. Ronan didn't acknowledge Matthew's words, but Adam saw the way his back flexed. So that's what it was. It wasn't just chili after all.

Aurora and Declan appeared behind Matthew. Aurora looked pleased and reminiscent as she said cheerfully, “I haven't smelled this scent in years.”

Declan's expression was unreadable. He stared hard at Ronan, who ignored his gaze, and then, Declan's eyes flicked to Adam. Adam stared back automatically. He couldn't help it. He wasn't sure what Declan was looking for or trying to figure out (although he had a suspicion); in the end, it didn't matter. There was something about Declan that left Adam unable to back down. The feeling was tripled now. He returned Declan's gaze until Declan finally looked away. Adam felt a surge of satisfaction.

“Don't even think about it,” Ronan said suddenly, and Matthew froze by the pot of chili, hand extended mid-way. “It needs to sit for at least three hours.”

Matthew groaned pitifully.

“ _Three hours?_ I'll die of starvation first.”

The look he gave Ronan was all puppy eyes, but Ronan's expression remained impassive. Matthew quickly switched tactics and turned his puppy eyes on Aurora.

“Sandwiches should hold everyone over until the chili is ready,” Aurora said with an indulgent smile.

Aurora whipped up sandwiches for everyone with impressive speed, and Ronan and Adam took theirs out to the barn to eat on Adam's suggestion. The look Declan kept giving Ronan was making Adam uneasy and worst, it was putting Ronan on edge.

The barn was emptier than it had been the first time Adam had seen it. The dream item — a simple, unassuming alarm clock — only had the power to wake a few cows a day, but the progress had begun to show drastically. The awaken cows were kept in a separate barn from the others, to prevent them from causing harm to those still asleep. They settled against one of the sleeping cows and Adam purposefully sat close enough their shoulders were touching. If Ronan found it odd, he didn't complain. They ate their sandwiches in silence. When Adam finished his, he set his plate aside and leaned back against the cow.

“So, what else can you cook?” Adam asked.

“Fuck off,” Ronan responded.

Adam smiled. He rested his head back against the cow and closed his eyes. The cow gave off a pleasant heat, keeping away the fall chill. After a few moments, Adam became aware of the feeling of eyes on him and he opened his eyes. Ronan looked away, expression indifferent, and muttered, “If you fall asleep out here Parrish, I'm leaving you out here.”

“Relax,” Adam played along. “For once, I'm not tired, despite the fact that it's my first day off in ages and _somebody_ dragged me out my bed to play in the mud.”

“Would you rather be the third date on Gansey's date with Blue?” Ronan asked.

“Does cave hunting count as a date?” Adam wondered aloud.

“With Gansey? Definitely.”

Adam wasn't sure he'd put it passed Blue either. He felt Ronan's eyes on him again.

“What?” He asked, looking at him.

Ronan looked away. Several seconds passed before he said, eyes on the wall, voice all casual, “You never said how you felt about that.”

“Not really for me. I prefer walks on the beach at sunset and moonlit dinners — ”

Ronan knocked his shoulder against his, but the corner of his lips were turned up.

“Isn't it kind of late for you to be asking me how I feel about Gansey and Blue? Isn't that a question you lead into _before_ informing someone a week after their break-up that one of their closest friends just spent all night on the phone talking to their ex-girlfriend?”

“You're avoiding the question.”

“So are you.”

Adam's fingers found a piece of hay and he began shredding it absently.

“I was a bit bothered at first,” He said.

Ronan gave him a look.

“Okay, I was a lot bothered, but it wasn't really about Blue. It was that it was _Gansey_ that stung. The only worse person it could've been is you.”

“Why am I worse than Gansey?” Ronan asked.

“But I've gotten over it. As long as their happy, whatever.”

“Why am I worse than Gansey?”

“I don't think I liked Blue as much as I thought I did,” Adam said, ignoring the question for a second time, not entirely sure why he was even telling Ronan any of this. There was a brief silence in which Adam wondered if Ronan was going to ask why he was worse than Gansey again and what he would do if he did, but Ronan just muttered indifferently, “You dodged a bullet, if you ask me."

This amused Adam greatly.

“Yeah, for a grenade,” He muttered.

He ignored Ronan's questioning look and leaned his head back against the cow. He closed his eyes and began to count. He reached five before he felt Ronan's eyes on him. This time, he didn't bother to try and catch him in the act. When Ronan's gaze on him became too unbearable to ignore, he asked, eyes still closed, “Why did you tell me about them talking on the phone?”

“I thought you'd like to know,” Ronan said, as if it was obvious.

It was obvious, but Adam didn't think it was obvious in the way Ronan meant for it to be.

Adam turned his head without lifting it, so his cheek was pressed against the cow's warm hide, and opened his eyes as he asked, “Or were you hoping I'd get over Blue faster if I knew?”

Ronan looked away.

“The fuck do I care how quickly you get over your ex-girlfriend? I didn't want to listen to you fucking mope all day.”

His voice was derisive, but Adam felt him tense against him, heard the lie that was carefully constructed so it actually wasn't a lie at all. Ronan was always saying he didn't lie, but he knew every trick in the book to hide the truth. Adam turned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. For the first time he noticed the various odd things hanging from the ceiling, some farm tools, some dream things. There was even a bright emerald green wind chime, curiously not out of place.

“Walks on the beach, Parrish? Really?”

“Only at sunset while dolphins jump in the background,” Adam said. Ronan knocked his shoulder again and Adam laughed. Then, not really sure what he was hoping for, or why he was saying it, he continued, “No, but seriously, something that's not expensive or about money. No fancy restaurants. None of that extravagant bullshit. Dates should be about the people, not the price tag.”

Ronan was silent, no scoffing, no derisive remarks, no _god Parrish, sappy enough?_ and that's how Adam knew he was thinking about it. Adam glanced sideways at him.

“What about you? What's Ronan Lynch's ideal date?”

Adam didn't expect an answer, so he wasn't surprised when Ronan pushed himself to his feet and muttered something about checking on the chili. The barn door closed behind him and Adam sighed into the sudden silence.

What he had managed to put off thinking about in the shower, he thought about now. He knew Ronan would never confess; it wasn't even a question. It would be up to Adam to make something happen. He just wasn't so sure something should happen. He had always been logical, ever since he was child — it was the reason why he had strive for the highest grades since kindergarten, it was the reason why he was an Aglionby student. He was logical even when he didn't want to be — like now. His brain was quick to remind him how often him and Ronan fought, even if it wasn't as often lately, and how many personality defects the two of them had alone. He knew it was more than possible they might not work out.

He didn't want to lose _this_. Lazy days at the Barns. Ronan showing up at his place at night, making the cold apartment feel a little less alone. Finding odd little thoughtful gifts that could only be from Ronan. Pizza at Nino's with the gang. He didn't want to lose any of it.

Maybe he was better off just pretending he didn't have feelings for Ronan. Ronan seemed to be managing just fine.

As the minutes crept by, Ronan didn't return and Adam was reminded of the looks Declan had been giving Ronan. He went looking for him. Just as he left the barn, he heard a door slam shut violently and he turned. Ronan stormed towards him. One look was all Adam needed to know he was pissed. He stalked passed Adam and into the barn. Adam followed him wordlessly. Ronan headed into the office. Adam stood in the doorway and watched silently as Ronan riffled through things, clearly for no other reason than the need to do something with his hands. He opened a drawer on the desk then slammed it shut violently and exploded, “He comes in here acting like he's got _any_ idea — what the fuck does he even know?”

Adam knew what was coming next, but still he flinched when Ronan slammed his fist into the wall. He heard his Gansey voice in his head, _aren't you going to stop him?_ But he made no move to because he knew better than anyone sometimes it was better to just get it out of your system. Ronan slammed his fist against the wall again and again, until blood ran down his knuckles and stained the wall. Each time, Adam flinched. He heard a door shut somewhere outside and his stomach dropped. _No_ , he prayed silently. _No, no, no. Not right now. Not here_. But the footsteps were heading straight towards them and a moment later, Declan shoved his way passed Adam and into the tattered office.

It happened fast. It always did. They exchanged a few words Adam didn't even register because he was too busy mentally cataloging all the things that were going to be destroyed if they fought — the garbage can with the ancient Coke cans, the prints on the walls, the old desk, the collection of dream items Ronan had built up — and then Declan had Ronan against the desk, his shirt in his hands. Ronan snarled out, “Not here.”

Declan stilled, body poised for a fight, then he shoved Ronan away and stalked back out of the office. Ronan followed. Adam took a moment to close his eyes and release a breath of relief that the fight wouldn't be here, before he headed after them. They were already outside and going at it when he caught up to them. He watched as Ronan uppercut Declan and Declan's knee found Ronan's stomach. He knew he had to do something. A tantrum he could ignore, but if somebody didn't stop Ronan and Declan, they wouldn't stop until one or both of them were in the hospital. That someone had just never had to be him before. It was always Gansey who played mediator.

One look at the two of them was all Adam needed to know words were useless, so he did the only thing he could think of. He shoved himself between them. Declan's fist caught him in his already sore jaw and stares exploded in front of his eyes. The taste of blood filled his mouth, but it worked. Declan realized his mistake — Ronan was one thing, what would it say about his image for punching Adam? — and drew back. Ronan on the other hand got angrier, but Adam was still between them, blocking his path.

“Enough,” Adam said sharply and Ronan stilled. “This is just as much your fault.” Ronan flinched and Adam turned to Declan, “What's the policy at your ivy league college about violence?”

A span of a second was all it took for Declan to go from irrational and pissed, to calm and collected future politician. Adam might have admired him for it if his jaw wasn't throbbing painfully and he didn't hate Declan's guts.

“I never intended to involve you in our dispute,” Declan said. Ronan laughed loudly. Declan's eyes narrowed. “You have my sincerest apologies.”

“You should probably say goodbye to your mother before you leave,” Adam responded coolly.

The dismissal was clear. Adam watched the disbelief and indignation roll over Declan's face before he managed to mask it. Without a word, he turned and stalked away. Adam waited until he disappeared through the back door before he turned to Ronan.

“How hard is it to just ignore him?” Adam demanded.

“You shouldn't have got between us,” Ronan responded.

Anger began to well in Adam.

“And what should I have done? Stand off to the side and watch as the two of you killed each other?”

“You should've minded your own business,” Ronan snapped.

Adam felt his anger skyrocket. He ignored the dull ache in his chest and said through clenched teeth, “Take me home.”

Ronan's expression tightened and he stalked away. Adam released an unsteady breath. He felt stupid. How had he ever thought they could work? _This_ doesn't work. It would never work. Adam's jaw throbbed painfully, but it had nothing to do with the burn at the back of his throat. He heard Ronan's footsteps return, but he didn't turn to look at him until he was right in front of him. He expected to find Ronan holding his keys, but whatever he was holding, it wasn't his keys. Ronan held it out and Adam realized what it was. Ice wrapped in a paper towel. Adam clenched his teeth, ignore the jolt of pain that spiked across his jaw.

“That's not an apology,” He said.

He needed to hear it. Needed to know if Ronan could say it. He wasn't hopeful. Ronan Lynch didn't apologize, ever.

“I'm sorry,” Ronan said, and Adam's head snapped up. He stared at him, eyes wide. Ronan's face was hard to read, bordering on impassive, but he met Adam's eyes as he continued, “For what I said. For getting you involved in mine and Declan's fight. For not thinking about you before I told you about Gansey and Blue. For every stupid thing I've ever done. I'm sorry, okay? So just... stay fucking put, Parrish.”

 _I'm sorry._ He had said it twice. Adam stared at him. He reached out. He could feel the cold emanating off the ice as he moved closer. His fingers curled behind Ronan's neck and Ronan stilled. Adam leaned forward and kissed him. The ice fell to the ground. Ronan's lips were surprisingly soft. And unmoving. When Adam pulled away enough so he could talk, Ronan hadn't moved an inch. He looked almost afraid to. He stared at Adam, eyes wide, barely breathing.

“Do you want to know how I know the feelings I had for Blue weren't serious?” Adam asked.

His voice was barely above a whisper, but still it felt too loud. Ronan swallowed, the sound audible between them. His voice was tight, strangled, “How?”

“Because it wasn't even a fraction of what I feel for you right now,” Adam said.

Hope and disbelief warred in Ronan's eyes and in that moment, Adam realized just how much power he had over him. He could easily crush Ronan right now. With just a few words, he could take down the wickedest boy in Aglionby, the snake, the raven king. Instead, he leaned up and kissed him again. This time, Ronan kissed him back, soft and gentle as if afraid Adam would change his mind. Adam kissed him firmer in response. Ronan reached up and cupped the side of Adam's face tenderly. An onslaught of emotions flooded through Adam. It was like the sled all over again, like the cart, only a hundred times more powerful. He was out of breath when they pulled apart. So was Ronan.

They remained close, looking into each others eyes. Disbelief still glimmered in Ronan's eyes, as if he couldn't believe someone like Adam would really like someone like him. Adam thought he understood the feeling well.

“I think it could work,” Adam said. Ronan's brow furrowed. Adam swallowed and continued, “Us. I think we could work.”

“Us,” Ronan repeated. He sounded parched, voice cracked and dry. “You want there to be an us?”

Adam stared back at him in a silent yes. He was quickly running out of words. In the last hour he had opened up and been far more honest than he had been years. He had told Ronan his feelings about Blue and Gansey. He had told Ronan his feelings about _him_.

“Yes,” Ronan said.

“Yes what?” Adam asked.

Ronan rolled his eyes and he suddenly looked more like himself. The tension eased.

“Try and keep up, Parrish. Yes, I think we could work.”

Relief and happiness flooded through Adam in a dizzying rush. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Ronan repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Adam said, then he surged forward and kissed Ronan hard. This time there was no hesitation when Ronan kissed him back. A raven or a crow cawed somewhere nearby, but Adam was too lost in kissing Ronan to register it. He didn't hear the flap of wings drawing close. He was completely unprepared for what happened next. There was a flurry of black wings and then something large and _alive_ landed on Adam's shoulder.

“ _Jesus_ ,” He swore, breaking the kiss.

He looked at Chainsaw. She stared back. Adam had never truly appreciated just how sharp her beak was until it was only inches from his eyes.

“Why is your bird on me?” Adam asked, voice calmer than he felt. Chainsaw's talons tightened at the sound of his voice and he tensed. “And why is it looking at me like that?”

“I think she's sizing you up,” Ronan said, looking torn between intrigued and amused.

It _did_ look like she was sizing him up. She eyed him with her beady eyes, head cocked to the side.

“What happens if she doesn't approve?” Adam asked.

Ronan shrugged and said, “Come on. I still need to check the chili.”

Ronan headed towards the house. Chainsaw settled down contentedly, the same way she perched on Ronan's shoulder, and Adam breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently, he had passed the test. As he started after Ronan, he muttered wryly, “The occupational hazards of dating Ronan Lynch.”

“What was that?” Ronan called back.

“I think your bird likes me more than you,” Adam responded.

Ronan snorted. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, the tire idea was my first idea for this fic, before I got the (much better, in my opinion) idea of mud sledding. The goal was to find something that inspired the same reckless feelings as the shopping cart scene and I think mud sledding fit the bill quite nicely. This is my first (completed) attempt at writing this pairing. Hopefully I didn't do too bad. Let me know what you guys think xx (I got a tiny bit messy at the end, sorry. I wasn't sure how to end this and Chainsaw seemed as good a closer as any.)
> 
> Check out my tumblr for writing updates and the occasional drabble: http://pcnsysparkinson.tumblr.com/


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